"I suspect normal people are.

You know better than I do whether love is usually a sedative." "Am I normal--after what I have confessed ?" she asked.

"Can't love be well-bred ?" "Perfectly I should say--only perhaps you are not an expert--" "In what ?" "In self-analysis, for example." There was a vague meaning in the gaze they exchanged.
"As for our friendship, we'll do the best we can for it, no matter what occurs," he added, thinking of Quarrier.

And, thinking of him, glanced up to see him within ear-shot and moving straight toward them from the veranda above.
There was a short silence; a tentative civil word from Siward; then Miss Landis took command of something that had a grotesque resemblance to a situation.

A few minutes later they returned slowly to the house, the girl walking serenely between Siward and her preoccupied affianced.
"If your shoes are as wet as my skirts and slippers you had better change, Mr.Siward," she said, pausing at the foot of the staircase.
So he took his conge, leaving her standing there with Quarrier, and mounted to his room.
In the corridor he passed Ferrall, who had finished his business correspondence and was returning to the card-room.
"Here's a letter that Grace wants you to see," he said.